A birthday candle
by Jess2709
Summary: Cordelia blew out the candle and made her wish, her wish didn't come true. She was sent into The Games. Her mind twisted and unstable, many thought that it would mean an easy target but they were wrong, so very wrong. It makes her a heartless killer, one who is stuck in her own mind and whose birthday never ends. You may laugh at her twisted story now but this is no bed time story.


**So this is my first story for The Hunger Games and I hope you enjoy. **

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**Blow out the candle and make a wish**

The flame flickered feebly against the dimness of the dingy house that the small gathering stood in, a mother smiled warmly as her child blew out the source of the feeble light. The child blew gently as she squeezed her eyes shut and made a wish. The flame disappeared from the small candle, leaving only a small trail of grey smoke that floated through the surrounding air. The child opened her eyes and grinned at the family that surrounded her. The wish echoed through her mind; always hoping; always dreaming. The same wish for 15 years._ I wish to survive another reaping, to not be chosen as a tribute for District 10._

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The children around Cordelia pushed and shoved her, she looked behind her and saw her mother standing with the other parents who all looked scared or worried, scared to lose their children to the capitals sick game. She looked back forward and scanned the younger children's line and saw many young scared faces looking back at her, too young to be sent to the Arena; to be killed. A hush fell over the crowd as a Capital representative walked out onto the stage at the front; he cleared his throat and began the usual speech of how lucky the districts are to still exist because of the Capitals protection and the punishment for their uprising. Soon it was over and the names were to be announced for the unlucky souls that were sent to the Arena, the glass bowls were rolled out and the man's hand dove into the male bowl first.

"Jason Rivera" The man's booming voice echoed across the crowd and a strangled cry came from where the viewers of the reaping watched. A small boy about the age of 12 walked shakily from the sea of people, he had mousy brown hair and a splattering of freckles across his nose. He looked weak and fragile. As he made his way up the steps his foot caught and he fell and was sprawled out at the top of the steps where the cameras that surrounded us focused solely on him as he heaved himself up from the ground and made his way to the man on the stage area. He held his head down in shame as the whispers and snickers broke out across the crowd but these were quickly silenced by the sound of rustling as the man's hand dove into the female glass bowl and pulled out the silvery slip of paper which contained the name of the next tribute. Tension was visible in the air as Cordelia held her breath and watched with all her attention as the man unfolded the slip of paper, hoping with all her heart that her wish would come true.

"Cordelia Woods" The man's voice echoed out again and the world seemed to spiral as all breath left Cordelia. _No, that can't be right; I must have heard it wrong._ Thoughts whirred around her head at a mile a minute, but it was all denial as the she watched the crowd shuffle away from her like she was home to a contagious disease. She held her head high as she walked through the crowd of staring, whispering people, she wouldn't let them see her panic, her fear. Only her sweaty palms and darting eyes gave away the panic she felt as Cordelia walked confidently towards the stage, she didn't trip, she didn't stumble. She made it look like she was expecting nothing less than being a tribute. As she stood on the stage she kept a bored expression on her face, people stared, and they looked a mixture of sad and amused and pure happiness on the prospect of another year of living. When the man told the tributes to shake hands a mummer ran through the crowd when Cordelia merely raised an eyebrow at him then continued to stare straight ahead of her. The reaping was over and the tributes were rushed inside to separate rooms for their good byes.

Jason's parents were quick to rush into their son's room and enfold him into their arms,

"You can't go, they can't make you." His mother cried out as her tears splattered down onto her sons shoulder as he held her tight. His father gave him a tight hug then let him go, holding him at arm's length.

"You may have a chance, I hear that the Woods girl is unstable; she could snap and be killed by someone else. The rest... you're small enough to hide from. If there's tree's hide in the one's that's branches will snap if something too heavy goes on them; if it's a desert, there has to be a cave somewhere. Find it." His father finished as the peace keeper opened the door and ushered him and his wife out.

In the other room Cordelia sat staring out of the window as her mother entered the room then ran to her daughter, enfolding her in her arms. They sat there and held each over as the tears finally escaped Cordelia's eyes and cascaded down her cheeks to soak into her mother's familiar wool jacket. Too soon the peace keeper came and took the scared girl's mother away, they didn't say one word to each over but their hug had held all the words that they ever could have said. Cordelia spent the rest of the time staring out of the window at the land she didn't know if she would ever see again. The peace keeper came at what felt like two minutes later but was twenty. From there they were taken to the train that would take them to the capital, to the arena, to their death. Fear coursed through Cordelia's blood as she stepped onto the sleek metallic train, she only half listened during the tour as her mind raced over the many possibilities of what the arena could be or the odds of her surviving.

Cordelia blinked and realized that she was standing in the doorway of her room; she stepped in and heard the soft 'clunk' of the door closing behind her. She looked around her and saw the fancy, silk lined bedding on the king sized bed, the luxury bathroom that she would have loved at her home, the windows that showed the rolling hills that flashed by. But now all she saw was a death trap. She walked forward and noticed something white in the corner of her eye; she slowly looked over at it and saw a single candle with 'Happy Birthday' wrote in pink cursive writing on the side. She walked over and scooped it off the floor. _How very fitting_, she thought as she crossed to the bed, _I'm sure this will come in use later on in this hell hole. Happy bloody birthday to me_.

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**I know this chapter was really boring. But just bear with me it should get better but I'm still yet to find out. So don't forget to review and tell me if you**

**enjoyed or not…. So yeah, peace out. :P**


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